


Where You Lead (I will follow)

by MoonOwl



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: As fluffly as one can get, Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Gilmore Girls references, M/M, Murder Family, and is living with a cannibal, because she and said cannibal have blackmailed each other, when one is a teen who faked her death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:07:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27205649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonOwl/pseuds/MoonOwl
Summary: “Oh!” Abigail points to the man who has just appeared on the screen. “That’s Luke. He’s one of my favorites. He owns the town diner and has a ‘will they, won’t they’ thing going on with Lorelei.”Hannibal quietly hums in acknowledgement and gently rubs his thumb against her shoulder.Abigail digs into her personal popcorn bowl before pausing at the arrival of a new realization. “You know who Luke kind of reminds me of? Will.”...Or, Abigail and Hannibal spend some quality time watching Netflix.
Relationships: Abigail Hobbs & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, mentioned Alana Bloom/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 116





	Where You Lead (I will follow)

**Author's Note:**

> Who among us is not seeking comfort from mid-2000s dramedies right now?

Abigail really does not have many options for hobbies outside of Netflix. 

Sure, she could practice the harpsichord, but if Hannibal has guests over, she can’t make too much noise (besides, it's not like it's her favorite pastime anyways). She has started some informal homeschooling - preparations for when they move to Europe and she can take the entrance exams for schools over there — but there is only so much trig one can do by her lonesome before going mad. It’s not like she could just go outside when they were staying in Baltimore either, or even have profiles on most social media sites like a regular teen. Which leaves her with good, ole’, reliable streaming services. 

_Hannibal is trying,_ she reminds herself. He isn’t too familiar with what teenage girls tend to like, which he does fully admit, so while the bedroom he put together for her is a little too pink for her liking, Abigail knows he’s trying his best. He bought her a laptop fancier than any one she had back home, and she has to admit the wi-fi reception here is killer. Even his hideaway house out in the middle of nowhere gets better service than her home in Minnesota did. 

Besides, _it’s not like I have any other options of where to go_ , she reminds herself. But still, it’s nice enough. 

She’s a few episodes into yet another re-watch of _Gilmore Girls_ when Hannibal calls her downstairs for dinner. 

She enters the dining room and smells the fragrant herbs and spices that Hannibal has seasoned their dinner with. Hannibal’s cooking is another silver lining about all of this mess; Abigail far prefers his elegant cuisine to casserole and hotdish dinners (even if she occasionally wishes they could just order pizza some night). 

She grabs the plates and silverware from the cabinet, and he rolls out the cart of food from the kitchen. 

“You’ll have to keep the lights off in your room tomorrow night,” Hannibal tells her as he places a side dish on the table. “I’ll be having company over.” 

Abigail thinks back to the last few times she’s been told to keep her lights off. She remembers hearing a familiar female voice when the front door opened. The voice was warm but not too high pitched. She pauses from setting the plates. “Are you dating Dr. Bloom?” She asks. 

Hannibal pauses. “We are seeing each other, yes, but it’s rather casual.” 

“You’re not going to tell her about me,” Abigail says. 

Hannibal gives her a small and knowing smile. “I don’t think we’ll ever be serious enough for me to need to tell her.”

“But, you want to tell Will about me? Eventually, that is.” 

“That is what I am planning to do.” 

“He’s still in prison?”

“A mental institution, but yes,” he replies. “But, we’ll get him out rather soon.” He gives her another one of those knowing smiles. 

Abigail finishes setting the table and sits down. Hannibal places her meal in front of her. It’s fish with capers and a lemon sauce, which she’s thankful for. She’s accustomed to Hannibal’s...preferred diet, but she personally prefers to keep her meals sourced from less emotionally complex creatures.

“What is that show you’re always watching?” Hannibal asks as he sits down, breaking the brief silence in the room. 

“It’s called _Gilmore Girls_ ,” Abigail perks up. “It’s my favorite show. I’ve seen it like a hundred times by now.” 

“And you don’t get bored of it?” 

“No, I could never,” she smiles, a little sadly at that. “My mom and I used to always watch it together.” 

“I should watch it with you sometime,” Hannibal says. “As you probably have observed by now, I do not watch much television and I am quite behind on today’s programs.” 

Abigail laughs a little. “It’s been off the air since 2007, actually.”

“Well, I certainly have a lot of catching up to do.” He smiles, and Abigail giggles a little bit. 

“I just started another re-watch, so your timing is pretty perfect.” 

“We’ll have to set aside some time together for tomorrow evening.”

Abigail almost mentions that she couldn’t possibly have any other plans tomorrow night, but she decides against it. 

…

Abigail sleeps in a little too late the next morning and wakes up to a text message from her only possible messenger. 

“Will has been released,” it reads. 

… 

Hannibal doesn’t own a TV, which leaves them placing Abigail’s laptop on the coffee table across from the couch. It’s a strikingly modern juxtaposition against the fireplace that Hannibal lit in the background of his ornate living room. 

He enters the room with a large bowl in his hand. Abigail adjusts her position on the couch to make room for him.

“Did you make popcorn?”

“Yes, I did,” he sits down and places the bowl between them. “Not the microwave kind. I bought kernels to pop on the stove.” 

“Of course,” Abigail smiles. He hands her a napkin and a smaller bowl to hold her serving (as is typical Hannibal fashion, manners still matter when eating popcorn in front of a screen). Abby takes her first sample of the popcorn, and it’s like no popcorn she’s had before. From the (admittedly, still limited) culinary knowledge she’s gained from Hannibal, she can tell that the kernels were dressed in olive oil, toasted szechuan peppercorns, and sea salt. “Do you want me to start over from the beginning?” she asks. 

“No, that’s quite alright, I’m sure I can catch on.” 

Abigail grins and presses play. “Just let me know if there’s anything you need explained. Basically, it’s a show about a girl and her mom in a cute, little town in Connecticut, but her mom had her pretty young, so they’re more like sisters than a typical mother and a daughter.” 

A minute in, they hear the voice of Carole King and her own daughter singing the theme song that’s so familiar to Abigail. An odd feeling forms in the pit of her stomach. _What if Hannibal thinks this is absolutely stupid?_ she thinks to herself, feeling suddenly self-conscious. She looks over at him and studies his face for a moment, trying to suss out any indication of his thoughts so far. 

“She looks like you,” Hannibal says, pointing to Rory on the screen. “The young lady.” 

Abigail feels a sense of relief and gives him an embarrassed sort of smile. “I don’t think I’m as pretty as Alexis Bledel.” 

“Nonsense,” he says, reaching his arm over to give her an affectionate pat on the shoulder furthest from him. “You are incredibly pretty.” He keeps his arm wrapped around her and his hand resting on the side of her upper arm. 

Maybe it’s the cold of the winter night or the part of her heart that wishes she were still watching the series with her mom, but Abigail allows him to keep his hand there and even adjusts herself to gently lean against him. “Alexis Bledel is the name of the actress, by the way, the character is named Rory,” she says as she pulls the quilt on her lap closer to herself. “I think Alana kind of looks like Lorelei,” she continues. “Oh, that’s the mom,” she clarifies after a moment. 

Hannibal studies the screen for a moment. “They have similar eyes and hair,” he says. “But Dr. Bloom has much softer features.”

“Oh!” Abigail points to the man who has just appeared on the screen. “That’s Luke. He’s one of my favorites. He owns the town diner and has a ‘will they, won’t they’ thing going on with Lorelei.”

Hannibal quietly hums in acknowledgement and gently rubs his thumb against her shoulder. 

Abigail digs into her personal popcorn bowl before pausing at the arrival of a new realization. “You know who Luke kind of reminds me of? Will.” 

Hannibal turns and raises an eyebrow at her — not out of judgment, but out of piqued interest it seems. 

“You know,” she continues. “He’s always wearing those flannel shirts. He’s kind of rough on the outside, but he’s really a big softie. He’s even got the same scruffy facial hair.” 

She looks up at Hannibal and watches his eyes stare intently at the screen. 

“He’s more rugged looking than Will. Will has a youthfulness to his face.” 

“You’re right. Will’s too pretty.”

“Pretty?”

“You know, like the kind of guy in a boy band,” Abigail turns to look up at him.

“My knowledge of boy band aesthetics is even less than my knowledge of television.” 

“He’s handsome but like...in a _soft_ way,” she says, smiling just a tad cheekily. “Like how Alana is beautiful in a soft way.” 

His smiles at the reference to his earlier comment for a brief moment before his face sours slightly at the change in dialogue on screen. 

“Oh, I should have warned you,” Abigail smirks to herself. “That Rory’s school is called Chilton Academy.” 

...

Abigail keeps to her room for the next few evenings. Hannibal’s messages have been coming in fairly late in the day recently, like he has last minute plans rather than a carefully planned schedule of guests. On one particular day, he sends her a message in the evening, saying that he has a guest coming over for dinner.

Abigail decides to use these nights to rewatch teen movies from the 2000s. On an Alexis Bledel kick it seems, she settles on watching _the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants_ and munches on the takeout pizza Hannibal has finally let her order. 

As the girls on screen each try on the magical pair of denim for the first time, her earbuds muffle the sound of what are definitely two adult male voices conversing in the living room below. 

_Will, it has to be Will,_ she thinks to herself. 

She presses pause and takes out her earbuds. She gets up from her bed and creeps towards the door. Slowly, she presses her ear against the wood to try to get a better sense of the conversation downstairs. 

“Well, you’ve already brought me meat tonight,” she hears Hannibal say. “What else could you possibly give me this evening?” 

There’s something she can’t hear followed by the tones of low laughter. 

Slowly, she steps away from the door and begins to open it cautiously. 

“The wine has certainly loosened you up," Hannibal's now clear voice remarks.

“Oh, this isn’t the wine talking.” 

_Oh my god_ , she thinks to herself. _They’re flirting._ Hannibal and Will are flirting with each other.

She walks closer to the staircase until she reaches the corner edge of the hallway. 

“You haven’t loosened up too much, yet,” she hears Will continue. “You’re still all buttoned up. Who wears a tie this late at night?” 

“You should be careful what you say. You know how I feel about the rude.” Hannibal responds. There’s no malice in his voice, and he even sounds playful, Abigail notes. 

She hears two glasses clink against each other. 

“Why don’t you take me upstairs now?” Will practically purrs. 

Blush rises to her face. Quickly, she realizes she could get caught. Holding her breath, she begins to tip-toe back to her room. Once she’s closed the door as quietly as humanly possible, she buries herself in the blankets on her bed as if they have some sort of magical power to keep her from getting caught. 

She hears two sets of footsteps walk up the stairs. Once they’ve reached the top step, she holds her breath once again, fearing that Will has sensed something amiss. 

“You have protection, right?” she hears Will ask, and never in her life has she been so relieved to hear an adult stress the important of safer sex practices. She hears the door to Hannibal’s bedroom shut and she puts her earbuds back in. 

… 

She wakes up the next morning to a text message from Hannibal letting her know that his guest has left. It’s time stamped for a little past 1AM, meaning Will didn’t stay the night. _Which also means he must have been sober enough to drive home_ , Abigail realizes. 

She grabs her pink bathrobe and wraps it around herself over her pajamas. She places her phone in the pocket and heads downstairs for breakfast. 

In the kitchen, Hannibal makes omelettes. “Good morning, Abigail. Would you like a cup of tea?” 

She nods her head and gives a quiet “uh-huh.” She can’t seem to make eye contact, not after what happened last night. She tries to tell herself that Hannibal is a grown man who is allowed to do grown-up activities with other grown adults. She knows he’s had Alana spend the night before, but for some reason knowing he spent the night with Will makes her feel embarrassed. She almost feels like a kid who walked in on her parents and not someone who essentially overheard her housemate have a date. 

“So, did you have Alana over for dinner last night?” Abigail asks as she sits down in the breakfast nook. 

“No,” he says. “It was Will, actually.” 

Abigail taps into her acting skills to feign a nonchalant sense of surprise. “Oh, just him?” 

“Just him,” he replies, and Abigail notices a small smile creeping onto his face. 

He hands her a cup of black tea with two sugar cubes stirred in to dissolve. She begins to bring the cup up to her lip. “I wonder what people will think of us when we move. I mean,” she continues with a slight hesitation. “Are people going to think that you guys are my dads?” 

“Aren’t we already, in a way?” 

She nervously bites the inner part of her lower lip to keep herself from smiling. “I mean like, are we gonna tell people that you are my dads? Like...a couple?” 

“We could tell people that I’m your father, and that Will is a cousin or an uncle of yours,” he looks over at her. “Or we could say we’re both your fathers. Luckily, people tend to be much more relaxed about that sort of thing in many parts of Europe. We’ll have to ask Will what he thinks first, of course.” 

“There are worse contenders for a second dad,” she says as Hannibal passes her a plate. “Maybe he’ll let us get a dog.”

“Well, we’ll have to see about that,” Hannibal responds as he sits down across from her. Hannibal might be the one she and Will will have to work on. 

Abigail takes her first bite of breakfast and smiles over at him. _Will they, won’t they_ , she thinks.

**Author's Note:**

> I think Hannibal would have been a (fairly) good dad up until he killed Abby.


End file.
